What We Once Had
---- Eleanor Blake had not had the greatest childhood. She had been in the foster care system since age 5 after she had been found by police officers in the ruined apartment half starving with her parents dead around her. No one believed her when she told them what happened. They told her that it wasn't her fault, that a girl that young couldn't possibly be to blame. But, she knew they were wrong. She hadn't meant what she had said, but she couldn't reverse the effect her words had. She was the one who had told her fighting parents that they might as well die. In the spring, when Eleanor was nearly 7, a couple from Onibus adopted her. They weren't rich, and most of her clothes were from a secondhand store, but they loved her and Eleanor loved them. It was in the fall that Eleanor's life changed. For the first time, she was going to school. Eleanor walked into the classroom the first day with a smile on her face. Her dress was a little bit worn and stained but none the less she thought she looked pretty. She was one of the last students to enter the class and shortly after her arrival, the teacher, Ms. Blanche, gathered them all in a circle to start introductions. When it was Eleanor's turn to speak, she had barely opened her mouth when she heard someone snicker, looking to another girl on her left and whispering, "She looks so funny! Where did she come from?" Eleanor paused, her smile fading before she realized she still had to introduce herself. "I'm Eleanor. I just moved from Crocus." A boy with dark hair jeered, "What did you crawl here from the sewers?" The majority of the student's started laughing and Eleanor whipped her head around to face him before saying sternly. "Shut up." Halfway through his laugh, the boy's mouth suddenly closed. "Eleanor!" Ms. Blanche said, "That is not the way to treat your friends. Class, be welcoming to our new student." The other students mumbled apologies before Ms. Blanche turned to the student next to Eleanor, "Now what about you?" The red-head beside Eleanor was not normally a very nice young lady, she was known for her taunts and jeers towards her peers. However, when her classmates began making fun of the new pink-haired girl in class, she couldn't help the boiling feeling in her veins and how she fidgeted. She remembered every person who insulted Eleanor, and though she had no plan, she did plan on confronting them later at recess. However, when Ms. Blanche asked for her name, she immediately perked up, realizing she would be the center of attention. She stepped forward into the middle of the circle, all eyes on her as she placed her hands proudly on her hips. "I'm Dakota Fath and I've lived in Onibus my whole life!" she exclaims, voice loud and bright. "Nice to meet you, Dakota, thank you for sharing," Ms. Blanche says, a careful tone in her voice that told Dakota to back down. Nodding happily to her teacher, she bounced back to her spot, Ms. Blanche moving to the next person. When they attempted to do as Dakota had done, they were instantly shot down, their teacher making them stay in place and state their name. Dakota leaned over to the girl next to her. "I could show you around," she suggests, keeping her voice low to avoid the teacher's scorn. "I know all the best spots in the playground and all the kids listen to me so I can get us on the swings whenever we want," she adds, trying to make her offer seem more appealing. The small pout on Eleanor's face disappeared as the vivacious child next to her began to speak. Her heart beat in excitement as she replied quickly and quietly, "Yes please!" It was five minutes into her first day of school and she had already made one friend or at least the closest thing she'd ever had to one. Eleanor tried to be as attentive as she could during morning classes but kept stealing glances at Dakota who was sitting behind her to the left. As soon as the bell rang for lunch Eleanor carefully put her notebook and pencils into her desk, before standing up, looking lost as kids crowded towards the doorway. Dakota smiled widely when her offer was accepted, Ms. Blanche sending the pair a warning glare after Eleanor's enthusiastic reply. All throughout the morning classes, Dakota couldn't help her gaze traveling to the girl, and whenever they caught eyes, she would make a face just to get a reaction. She remembered very little from the first day's lesson, not that it would be much of anything other than rules she would eventually break. As the dismissal bell rang, she quickly shoved her things into her desk, leaping out of her chair and over to Eleanor. She laced their fingers together and marched to the door, making her way to the front of the line, where she sweet-talked the other seven-year-olds into giving up their spots with promises to give them a cookie from her lunch or to let them use her enchanted toys during recess. With Eleanor in hand, the young red-head asserted that she was not to be taunted again, though she could not control the kids in the back of the line who whispered and pointed at the girl in rags beside her. The teacher seemed unaware, moving to the door and guiding the children to the cafeteria for lunch, and despite the kindergarten rule of holding hands no longer being enforced, Dakota did not release her new friend's hand until they were seated at the long table their class was assigned. She placed her lunch box on top of the table and passed a chocolate chip cookie to the boy across from her, true to her word, and then pulled out the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was cut into two triangles for her to easily pick up and eat. "What do you have for lunch, Eleanor?" she inquires, peering curiously over at her friend, much too excited to ask than to wait until after she chewed and swallowed, causing her words to be the slightest bit muffled. Eleanor carefully opened her brown paper lunch bag, taking out an apple and a small bag of cheddar crackers before folding it neatly. "Cheddar crackles and an apple, I didn't have time for a sandwich this morning." She flushed, she has spent the majority of her time walking in from the outskirts of town where her house was. She nibbled the crackers, sparing glances at the kids who snickered around her. It made anger and shame burn inside her. She was ashamed of her appearance and who she was, what she had done though none of the other children knew. They just saw her for her appearance. "Do you make your lunch in the morning? Or do your Mom and Dad?" She asked Dakota curiously. Dakota nodded along, noticing the slight pink on her new friend's cheeks. "I really like cheddar crackers," she says, looking more wistful than she should when one is thinking of a mere snack. "Hey, I know! if you give me, uh, 10 crackers, I'll give you half my PBJ! Sound good to you?" She suggests, holding out the uneaten half of her sandwich to the other girl. The snickering children looked at Dakota now, slight confusion clear on their face. The young red-head knew the value of her food, and all the kids knew she wouldn't accept less than a full bag of crackers for half of her sandwich, especially when her parents had so meticulously cut the crust off the edges. They couldn't believe that she only wanted 10 measly crackers, some of them looked the slightest bit angry that she was being so nice to this new girl, especially the young boy across from her, but nobody questioned her actions, knowing the fiery young girl wouldn't let them speak poorly of her. "I help my moms pack my lunch actually if I don't then they put gross stuff in it, like those dumb kale chips." Her nose scrunches up in distaste, remembering the horror of popping one of those in her mouth during lunch last year, she never trusted her moms to pack her lunch alone again. Eleanor's eyes widened, "Really? I mean, that seems... unfair, but, if you're really okay with it." The girl began to count her crackers, carefully putting fifteen into a small side pile before pushing them towards Dakota, "Here, this makes me feel a bit better." It left her with only nineteen crackers, but if Dakota was being truthful, she would also get half a sandwich out of it too. But, it still didn't feel like enough. "Hey, we can split my apple too. I don't think we can cut it fairly or anything, but we could alternate bites?" She fidgeted nervously. Eleanor didn't want to be indebted to someone on the first day of school, even if it was a friend. She didn't want to be a burden. Dakota nodded eagerly, taking the few extra crackers with no complaint, as she was still a selfish second grader, and if the girl insisted, she wouldn't argue. She handed over the sandwich triangle, and when Eleanor suggested they split the apple, Dakota hesitated for a moment. The girl next to Eleanor looked appalled at the suggestion, immediately pitching in her two cents. "That's disgusting Dakota, you'll get her germs!" She shrieked, right over Eleanor. Dakota opened her mouth to speak, but several voices added in, all agreeing with the first girl. "Shut up," she said, much lower and weaker than normal. She didn't want the apple. She didn't want to share it with Eleanor. So, why? Why didn't she just agree to the other kids and say no to the girl beside her? "I'm sharing the apple with Enor," she asserts, taking the red fruit from the girl's hands, and taking a big bite, before handing it back. She was hesitant after, but she took a bite after Eleanor too, and they continued to trade back until the apple was gone. --- Brrrring! It took all of two seconds before Dakota shoved her notebook in her bag and zoomed out of the classroom, the teacher yelling after her about homework that she couldn't even pretend to care about. Language Arts was always her longest class, it was the only one she didn't have with Eleanor, and all she wanted to do was get out of it whenever she went in. She turned the corner in the hall, knowing the path like the back of her hand to her best friend's locker, but what she saw when she did was much more than she expected. A small crowd was gathered around Eleanor's locker, her pink hair only barely visible between their bodies. Even from a distance, she could hear the insults; "Which trash can did you pick your clothes out from this morning?" "Do you even have parents, or are you just lying so you won't seem so pathetic?" "When's the last time you conditioned your hair, tumbleweed?" Dakota's blood boiled, her fingernails digging into her palms as she marched over to the crowd. She was tiny, she stood no chance against a couple kids, much less the seven of them in around Eleanor. She didn't care. "Hey! Back off!" She shouts. They didn't listen. Only one turned around, simply to tell her to go back to elementary school. She unclenched her fist, reached up, and yanked a girl back by the hair, forcing her way into the center of the circle through the opening she made. "Back off!" She yelled again, far too bold for the several inch difference between her and the boy in front of her alone. Her blood ran cold when she looked him in the eye, fear and adrenaline making her hands shake, and she instinctually reached out, grabbing Eleanor's hand to steady herself. "I-I'm not joking! If you don't leave Enor alone, I'll..." she trailed off, and they all laughed at her. "You'll what? Tattle on us? We all know that all you can do is report us, what with your puny size and all," he scoffs. "You would know all about puny, wouldn't you, shrimpy?" Dakota taunts, some of her confidence returning. By the way he recoils, she knows she hit a nerve. He then rears his fist back, preparing to punch Dakota, and she does nothing but tense up, ready to take the blow. Protect Eleanor. The black eye is evidence. It'll be okay. She squeezes the other girl's hand, hoping her moms won't be too upset about the new wound. "Don't touch her." Eleanor snapped, venom lacing her voice as she squeezed Dakota's hand. The boy stopped his face in shock. "What?!" He shouted, angry at his own actions. "I said, don't touch her. Get away from us." There was undeniably something wrong about her words. The way they worked and influenced the people around them... It was unnatural, it was magic. The crowd quickly fell apart and Eleanor put her free hand to her now dully-aching head. It always hurt when she used her words. She turned to look at Dakota, her voice now as soft as it typically was. "Hey, are you okay? Dak, you really don't have to do that. You'll get hurt you know..." She didn't bring up the fact that in the one class without her best friend, and any time that she was alone, Eleanor was an easy target. Picked on for her clothes, her shy, unconfident demeanor and the vibrant hair she had. The only reason she hadn't dyed it was because Dakota said she liked it. Dakota watched as the boy went absolutely still with Eleanor's words, confusion replacing the fear and tension on her face. "Wha-?" she began, but Eleanor's words cut through, a wave of something emanating from her that Dakota couldn't quite place. It was familiar, yet foreign, like the way Eleanor's gaze seemed to linger on her for longer than normal whenever they got really close, this flicker of something else in her amber gaze that Dakota could never figure out. And just as fast as Dakota had approached the scene, everybody else was gone, like it was all some crazy hallucination. Eleanor was back to herself, soft and gentle voice reminding Dakota of what she already knew. "Yeah, yeah. I get cuts, scrapes, and bruises all the time, I gave myself a black eye two weeks ago when I tripped and hit my face on that pole!" She chuckles slightly, wondering if the last minute even really happened. She knew she had an overactive imagination, but to imagine her timid best friend getting a whole posse of bullies to back down was crazy, even for her. "How did you do that?" she asks, curiosity making her more bold with her next question. "Will you teach me?" she adds, excitement causing her to squeeze her friend's hand again. Eleanor, shrugged, feigning innocence as best she could. "I guess... I guess I just scared them." She averted her gaze from Dakota's, attempting to make sure that it didn't happen again. Eleanor couldn't control it yet. If she said the wrong things to people, bad things often happened. She didn't ever want to do it to Dakota. Especially since she was the only one Eleanor had. The only one she cared about. Eleanor hated her power. She knew what it was of course. Most people had magic or magical items to use. She just didn't know how to control it, or even the full extent of what it did. All she knew was that people listened to her. She could make them feel different. Eleanor had tried it on Dakota once in the fifth grade, it was the true reasoning behind the grape soda incident. Because she made Dakota angry. She had vowed never to do it again to Dakota. She didn't want to hurt her like that. Ever. So she kept it a secret. But now... because of her lack of control, it was coming to the surface. Dakota rolls her eyes at Eleanor, not believing a word the girl said. She lifts her hand to carefully grab Eleanor's chin, not so forceful that Eleanor couldn't escape if she wanted to, and point her gaze back towards her. "Hey, I've known you for how long now? I'm better than a lie detector when it comes to figuring you out, so there's no reason you should even try to hide things from me." She studies her friend's expression, searching for a sign that her words were reaching Eleanor, though she knew the girl could hardly ignore her when Dakota focused solely on her like this. Before continuing on, she dropped her hand from Eleanor's chin, though she made no move to back away from her afterward. "That felt like... like that stuff in the Lacrima lesson," she begins, putting together the pieces in her mind. "That's magic, isn't it?" she asks, though she feels as though she already knows the answer. "What kind of magic lets you do that?" she further inquiries, though she's careful not to get too in Eleanor's face, knowing that would only clam her up further, getting her no answers at all. Despite how much she wants to lean in as close as physically possible and ask the hundred questions in her head, she waits for Eleanor to respond to her prior two, waiting for the opportunity to open up for her to ask more. Eleanor's heart raced as she felt Dakota's grasp, looking into her eyes. She could feel Dakota's breath on her face and listened to every word she said. When she figured it out, Eleanor only nodded, exhaling as she spoke in a low tone, "Yes it's magic. I don't know what kind. All I know is that it lets me... effect people. It's also what killed my birth parents." She had never told Dakota that she was adopted, but this was probably the time to come clean and say everything. Dakota nodded slowly, taking in the new bit of information and allowing it to begin turning the cogs in her mind. Eleanor had always been bullied, as long as Dakota knew her anyway, but now she couldn't understand why. Eleanor was weak, a fact many people took advantage of, but with the ability to literally control their actions, couldn't she just tell them to stop, like she did just now? And what did Eleanor mean, it was what killed her birth parents? Dakota didn't even know she was adopted, truth be told she knew very little about Eleanor's home life, as any time it came up, the pink-haired girl had a habit of expertly changing the conversation topic. She didn't know which question to ask first, or how to ask any of them without freaking Eleanor out, so she steeled her nerves. Just as she opened her mouth, the late bell rang. "Let's skip," she immediately suggests. "It's just dumb P.E. anyway, we need to talk more about this." Even before Eleanor agrees, Dakota takes her hand and begins walking towards the building's exit. She had skipped class before, she knew where to go to avoid administration, but if Eleanor insisted she would take them to P.E. too, now late and probably receive a worse punishment than if they didn't show up at all. Eleanor followed as they walked through the double doors and into the yard of their school, adrenaline running through her veins. Dakota had always been a daredevil, while she was too afraid to ask for a hall pass. They found themselves in a supply shed, cans and other miscellaneous wrappers and trash literally the floor along with old gym mats fashioned into seating cousins and a few MCAA posters on the wall. This was obviously one of Dakota's secret hideouts. Her throat felt tight, her heart heavy with emotion, overwhelming emotion. She knew what Dakota was thinking. She knew how many questions she must have, and Eleanor was going to answer every one. Dakota was her best friend; She deserved to know.